Trials and Tribulations of the Oathkeeper

Chapter 46: Liberation of Deepwood Motte

―The North―

Deepwood Motte...

Spearpoints shone in the light of the rising sun as the Northmen splinter force marched northwest towards their destination. All along the verges of grass were glistening with the morning frost, indicating that the weather itself was slowly starting to change, however it was an aspect that the Northmen, old and young alike, were all too familiar with – whereas their adversaries had not been accustomed to; the environmental changes would most likely play a role in the battle that is to come. Under the command of Lord Galbart Glover, the small Northern retaliation forces numbered around 4,000 men with each soldier wearing the banners of Houses Glover, Mormont, Forrester, Tallhart and Glenmore respectively. Between Deepwood Motte and Winterfell lay one hundred leagues of forest, the Wolfswood. Three hundred miles as ravens fly above it. The forest itself was settled by crofters, foresters and hunters. Overall, the Wolfswood forest is thinly populated, wild and untamed.

At Deepwood Motte, House Glover's maester entered the room and delivers Yara Greyjoy a message from her uncle Lord Captain Victarion informing her that several mainlanders were advancing on her position whilst the bulk of the Northern vanguard under the command of Robb Stark was advancing on Moat Cailin; also, she learned that King Daveth crossed the Trident and was rapidly moving from the south.

An attack from the northern front by the Young Wolf, accompanied by a strike from the south by the Young Stag; all this while a token force closes in on our doorstep. This is poison that I hold. I ought to burn it, realized Yara as she set her goblet of wine down onto the table. "There will be no answer," she informed the maester.

Her hostages, Robett's wife Lady Sybell, all but lived in her godswood, praying with her children for her husband's safe return from the Ten Towers; another prayer likely to go unanswered. Her heart tree is as deaf and blind as the Drowned God. Lord Galbart Glover was likely furious after hearing what was going on in his absence and led the Northmen forces on Deepwood Motte himself. The moon was almost full, the night so clear that she could see the mountains, their peaks crowned with snow. Cold and bleak and inhospitable, but beautiful in the moonlight. Their summits glimmered pale and jagged as a row of sharpened teeth. The foothills and the smaller peaks were lost in shadow.

One of Yara's men, Tristifer Botley, turned to her. "Torrhen's Square has fallen. Now it will be our turn."

"And what of the Cleftjaws?" she asked.

"Scattered without a fight. The greenland Northmen understand the frozen terrain better than we ever could."

"Then we stand alone."

"Dagmer will smash them," Tris insisted. "They are only wolves."

"Wolves who are at their strongest when travelling with their packs. 4,000 of them, and only 200 of us."

"So?" said Cromm. "We should join the fight. Why should the others have all the glory for themselves?"

They've given up all hope of victory. All they look for now is a good death. The wolves, stags and lions would give them that, no doubt, Yara realized glumly. She looked at her men sternly. "We're at our best on the seas, not on the mainland."

The sea was closer, only five leagues north, but Yara could not see it. Too many hills stood in the way. And trees, so many trees. The wolfswood, the Northmen named the forest. Most nights you could hear the wolves, calling to each other through the dark. An ocean of leaves. Would it were an ocean of water. Deepwood Motte was an old castle, but not a strong one. She had taken it from the Glovers, and they would take it back from her. Princess Yara Greyjoy had no intention of being taken captive. She would die as she had lived, with an axe in her hand and a laugh upon her lips. Her father had given her 30 longships to capture Deepwood Motte. Four remained, counting her own Black Wind vessel, and one of those belonged to Tris Botley, who had joined her when all her other men were fleeing.